


What a Glorious Feeling

by iamavacado



Series: Some Sanders Sides Stories [2]
Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders - Freeform, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders - Freeform, Gen, M/M, Sanders Sides (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 18:25:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14550636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamavacado/pseuds/iamavacado
Summary: Virgil hates thunderstorms. Roman is determined to convince Virgil of their beauty.





	What a Glorious Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> So it was raining pretty hard the other day and I feel like Roman would LOVE thunderstorms and Virgil would HATE them so here.

It was as if God decided to go on a paparazzi spree up in the sky. Flashing here and flashing there, making raucous noise against the otherwise serene cloudy sky. The very earth seemed to shake in the aftermath of the roarous strikes. And, finding that the pictures he'd taken were no good, God started to cry. A pouring, heavy rain started to fall amidst the thunder and lightning, and each drop battered against the glass of Virgil's window. It felt like the drops could break through the glass and stab him through his coat. They were strong and relentless, beating against the roof and the ground, surely flooding the flowers that Patton had planted a few days ago. The sky would be dark as night, though it was only six in the evening, and then the sky would light up so bright that nothing but the white could be seen illuminating the earth. And following that blinding glow, thunder would scream its cry across the neighborhood, making sure everyone could hear. To some, it was perfect weather.

But only to some.

Virgil was often misunderstood. People misread him in a lot of ways based on how he dressed and presented himself. They assume things like, he wore black so he must not like pink flowers, or flowers at all; or he listens to music on those big headphones so it must be that screaming stuff instead of audiobooks; or he's sarcastic and cynical so he must not care for his friends (look at Patton and the card Virge made for him and tell _him_ that); or…

Or he was dark and gloomy, so he must _love_ thunderstorms.

Well, he didn't.

He hated them.

Well, it wasn't exactly that he hated them, because what physical aspect of a thunderstorm could a person hate? So, it was more that--

 _CRASH_ went the thunder outside. Virgil pulled the blankets over his head and curled up on his bed facing the door, hoping that if he covered his ears with enough pillows that he wouldn't be able to hear it anymore.

So it was more that he was terrified of them.

There was a knocking at his bedroom door: an excited rapping. He almost mistook it for the thunder outside and he flinched. But when he heard Roman behind the door singing “The Rain Rain Rain” as excitedly as one could, he knew that it wasn't the thunder. No. The thunder would have been much louder.

“What?” Virgil called from under his fort.

“Have you looked outside, Virgil?” asked Roman. He could hear him jumping up and down. “It's raining!”

“Wow!” yelled Virgil. He had to raise his voice higher than usual to be heard above the sound of the rain. “I had no idea!”

“Oh, come on Angelina Woe-lie! It's beautiful outside! Don't you just love the rain?”

Virgil threw the covers off of him. One part because he could barely breathe under the heavy blanket, and the other part because it did nothing to block out the sound of the deafening thunder. He couldn't muffle it with anything. He pulled his hood up and pulled the strings as far as they would go. 

No dice. So now he looked and felt like a fool. 

He stomped over the door and flung it open. Roman was standing there in his usual wear: the basic prince uniform with sash and all. Over it, however, was draped a thin plastic shawl that Virgil guessed was some kind of raincoat. One of the cheap ones someone could buy at the impulse aisle at a convenience store. It had a little hood that he had pulled up over his head, and it stopped right at the base of his forehead. It was vaguely dark blue. He was smiling in a wide grin, and was slightly dancing in place. 

When he saw Virgil, however, he stopped dead in his tracks, smile fading ever so slightly. “What's up, moodie? I thought you liked nights like this.” He gestured loosely to the window over his shoulder, where the rain--despite it seeming impossible--had started to pick up in intensity. Virgil turned and saw the sky light up once again, as if it was mocking him. With the rolling thunder suddenly tearing through the air, his heart felt like it skipped a beat. He swallowed hard, and turned back to Roman, who's grin had fully turned into a concerned frown.

“Um.” Virgil found his throat dry, and he tried to push through his desert tongue. “I um...I don't really-- I mean I _never_ really…” The thunder beat down again, and this time, Virgil physically started, blinking hard. Then he remembered he was in front of Roman, and he tried to cover it up by scratching his neck, as if that would work. “I could take them or leave them.”

Roman raised a tentative hand. “Are you…?” He pointed to the window again. “Are you afraid of the rain?”

Virgil shook his head. “No, I'm not afraid of rain. I don't mind rain. But I do mind--” _CRASH_ “--thunderstorms.”

He dared to step inside Virgil’s room. He looked out the window. How Virgil wished he could love these nights as much as Roman did. “What about them scares you?”

Virgil walked over and drew the curtains shut. Lightning could still be seen peeking its light behind his curtains when it flashed anyway. He needed blackout ones. “Everything? It's like…no pun intended--”

“Pun _always_ intended.”

“The perfect storm. The lightning. The clouds. The rain. The thunder. It all mixes together and it makes all this noise and it makes me feel like the house’ll blow away and it…” he wrings his hands in circles over his stomach. “It makes my stomach feel all weird and it just...it makes me...feel…”

Roman lowered his head with understanding. “Anxious?”

Virgil nodded. “Yeah.” He flopped on his bed.

Roman stood in the middle of Virgil's room, mind working like turning gears. The sound of the rain became his soundtrack as he pondered different solutions. Obviously they could cuddle up in Roman's room where there were no windows and watch a movie, and Roman could make his french toast the way he did, and they could stay up all night. But that was a short term solution. Roman liked to think long term. He had a lot of long term ideas. A small list included eyeliner tattoos, stopping time, and silently erasing the election process in order for the internet to declare Thomas supreme overlord of America, to name a few.

And he just came up with another one. It'd be risky, and it was crazy, but it just might work.

“Have you ever,” he started casually, cautiously, “been...out in one before?” He walked over to Virgil’s bed and stood near him. His little raincoat crinkled with every move he made.

Virgil shook his head. “No. Only driving. And you talk about scary? Tell me about the time you got stuck in the middle of a thunderstorm in a car where the windshield wipers were broken, and _then_ we'll talk.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah.”

He proceeded slowly, hoping to not give his plan away too quickly. “Have you ever...just...been in it before? Just walked around in it?”

Virgil made a sound that was between a chuckle and a snort. “No, I haven't. I don't know why anyone would want to.”

“It's pretty nice, actually.” Virgil gave Roman a look, and tried to push through, “it's kind of a cathartic experience. Being out in the rain, pouring against you, beating the negativity out. You come in the house, soaked, probably, and you take a hot shower, drink some tea, and go to sleep, and you feel better than you did before.” He added, “Plus, it's the perfect opportunity for--”

“'Singing in the Rain?’” 

“For 'Singing in the Rain’!” He started to sing the actual song, remembering the dance from the song too. “I'm siiiingin in the rain, I'm siiiingin in the rain!--”

Virgil held up a hand. “Listen Princey, I get what you're trying to do, and I appreciate it. I do. But sitting here and listening to you sing while it rains isn't going to make me unafraid of thunderstorms.”

Roman stopped his mini performance. He tried to hide his smile, as Virgil had perfectly set himself up for Roman's diabolical long term plan. “That's true.” He paced to the other side of the bed, out of Virgil's view of him. “I suppose just, sitting and talking about it wouldn't solve anything.”

“Wanna watch a movie?”

Roman started to remove his raincoat. It sounded like someone opening a bag of chips, but Virgil didn't seem to catch it. “Perhaps. But I actually don't feel like watching a movie.” He inched towards Virgil.

“Why not?”

He was right behind him now. “I have a different idea for something.”

He put the raincoat on Virgil and slid it down around him. It didn't have sleeves. It was more of a glorified garbage bag than anything else, so it went on easy. Virgil looked at Roman, then down at himself. He stood, and as it dawned on him, his face went pale. “No. No way. There is _no_ way--”

“Oh come on!”

“I am not going out into that with you!”

“Why not!? It would be a great exercise--”

“Exercise??”

“--to get over your fear of thunderstorms!” He took Virgil's wrist and started to drag him to the door despite the resistance he felt. 

“I'm not going out there! I swear, I will murder you!”

“You don't mean that.”

“I mean it!!! If you make me go out there I will literally kill you!”

“Don't be such a Pretty Little Liar Virgil.” They stopped in the middle of the hallway. Roman faced him, face hopeful and pitiful. “I promise you Virgil, I promise you that this will help you get over your fear of thunderstorms.”

“Roman, I said--”

Roman held up a firm finger at Virgil. “You said that _sitting_ and _listening_ to me wouldn't solve anything. You never said anything about standing in the rain and dancing in it!”

Virgil started to take the rain coat off. “I'm not doing it.”

Roman grabbed his wrists softly. Virgil could easily pull away if he wanted to, but he stopped. They met eyes. “Please,” Roman said. His voice had gone surprisingly gentle. “Give it a chance. It seems silly but--” thunder crashed outside-- “it's how I've gotten over so many of my fears. Facing them. It's the biggest cliche in the book, I know. But it could work if you just…” he looked down at his hands. “Give it a chance.”

The rain beat steadily outside and Virgil considered what Roman was saying, and for some reason, it sounded like he had said 'give _me_ a chance.’ The look on his face was one of silent pleading: head lowered, eyes turned up, small, sympathetic smile glowing up the place. _Give me one chance,_ his face said, _please, just once. I trusted you for something, remember?_

Virgil did remember. Roman used to be scared to death of roller coasters. Like Virgil and rain, it was something he had misread Roman's fondness of. But one day, Virgil dragged him to an amusement park, pulled him aside, and promised him that, if he just put his faith in him, for just one second, he wouldn't regret it.

Now, Roman couldn't wait to be first in line at the carnival.

So who was he to not give Roman the same trust?

Virgil sighed heavily, looking down at the raincoat. Roman's hands on his. Thunder reverberated against the walls. He looked back up at Roman, stomach turning, and said, “Fine.”

Roman shrieked happily, pumping his fist in the air. “Yes! You won't regret this. Come on!” He took Virgil by the hand and half ran with and half dragged him down the hallway to the door.

The rain seemed to get louder as they neared the front door. As soon as Roman opened it, the sky lit up in a terrifying white, and Virgil was so startled that he almost fell on the floor.

“I can't do this,” he said, staring outside. “I can't.” He pulled his hand from Roman’s grip. “I'm sorry, I can't do--”

“What's stopping you?” He reached for Virgil’s hand again and pulled him close. Thunder rolled outside as the rain slammed the pavement. “The door?” He gestured to it. “I can open that.” He stepped over and pushed the door open. The sound of the rain was clearer than ever, and now it was starting to hit the welcome rug that Logan had sewn for the house. 

“Roman…”

Roman took a step back. “As far as capabilities go…” he took another step. Lightning lit up the sky. “You are more than physically able…” Thunder again. He got closer. “To walk out the door…” One foot was out, and the other was inside. “And into the rain.”

Virgil stepped forward, but another crash of thunder drove him back. “Roman.”

Roman held his arms up, in almost a shrug as he grinned. He didn't even have an umbrella or anything. He closed his eyes tight, and then walked backwards into the rain. Virgil stared after him, wide eyed and mouth ajar.

His hair was all but plastered to his face in an instant. He did his best to wipe it out of his face, but using his soaking wet hand to wipe his soaking wet face didn't do much. The rain beat against him, looking like it would tear his clothes to shreds. But he didn't seem fazed. He was smiling. His eyes were shut tight and he was smiling as wide as his mouth would allow. And he was spinning, and moving rhythmically like he was dancing, and while Virgil couldn't make it out, he was sure Roman was singing too.

After a moment, he opened his eyes, and looked at Virgil. He stepped up to the door and extended his hand through the wall of rain. “Come on!” He exclaimed, raising his voice to speak through the storm. “The water’s fine!”

“Is it cold?”

Roman nodded excitedly. “Freezing! Are you coming?”

Virgil looked at Roman’s hand, dripping onto the carpet, and partly on his boot. Then he looked at Roman: smiling with teeth and a face so welcoming it hurt. Then at the sky, which flashed with lightning in the distance, thunder not far behind.

He slowly took off his boots and socks.

Roman just looked on, grinning like a maniac at having finally convinced _someone_ to do _something._

Virgil got closer to the door, and while his heart was beating fast enough to be heard, the rain muffled it out, so he could more easily ignore it. It was an irrational fear, anyway. There was nothing wrong with rain. Thunder couldn't _hurt_ you. Roman extended his hand once again.

Virgil took it.

The cold was permeating and instant. Any fear he had was put on temporary hold as he screamed a curse at the sudden freezing mini daggers hitting him. Even through the raincoat, it was terribly cold. He had shut his eyes, and lost his footing as he was dragged outside, so he just about fell into Roman. He steadied him, though, until he could open his own eyes.

And for some reason, Virgil found himself laughing. Among the exclamations and string of expletives, he was laughing, holding Roman’s hands like he'd fall if he let go.

“Do you like it?” Roman asked over the rain.

Virgil dared to stand on his own, opening his eyes. He saw Roman, layered behind a wall of rain. He heard it pounding against his clothes, his coat, and the ground. He saw the lightning, heard the thunder, felt the cold. And something in him told him to start dancing.

He flung the raincoat off of him, and spun in a circle like Roman often did when he was happy. That was as good an answer as any. Roman clapped. Virgil took a small bow.

Eventually he had to discard his jacket and leave it as a wet lump on the sidewalk, because it had gotten so soaked and heavy that he couldn't wear it comfortably while dancing. Yes, you heard him right--he actually gave into the voice in his head and started dancing. Roman was leading.

Cheesy as it may have looked, they were slow dancing. They had been jumping around and running as fast as they could, but soon enough, this is where they ended up. Roman's hands rested in the curve of Virgil's hip, and Virgil put his arms up on Roman's shoulders. It just seemed to fit.

“You know you have to do it,” said Roman.

“Do what?”

Roman smiled mischievously, and took a dipping swing to the left, and he started to slowly sing, “I'm siiiingin in the rain.”

“I’ll be off key.”

Roman took a dipping swing to the right. He ignored what Virgil had said. “Just siiiingin in the rain!”

Virgil looked down at the ground, then back up at Roman, half smiling. How could he say no? “What a glooorious feeeeling.”

Roman bit his lip happily, and they both sang together, “I'm haaappy again!”

They swayed slowly, turning in circles as the lightning cracked overhead, and the rain saturated them to their bones. At one point they brought their arms up and laced fingers, as if they were going to tango.

“Im laughing at clouds..”

“So dark above..”

“The sun’s in my heart..”

“And I'm ready for love..”

They let their foreheads fall against each other, eyes closing.

“For love.”

***

It was about a month later when the sky darkened at two pm.

This time, it was Virgil beating excitedly on Roman’s door. When Roman opened, he saw Virgil standing there holding up two raincoats. One purple, and one red. He was humming 'Singing in the Rain’, and that rare, wide smile was on his face.

“Ready?” he asked. His voice brimmed with giddiness.

Roman grinned, taking one of the raincoats and sliding it on. He pulled the hood up over his head. He teased, “Are you?”

“I've got hot chocolate brewing as we speak. It'll be waiting for us when we get back inside.”

“And what movie--”

“Sound of Music.” He feigned gagging--he never cared for that movie, but he knew Roman loved it. “All the way through.”

“Yes!”

Virgil grabbed his hand, led him down the hallway, opened the door for him, and was the first one outside. It had already started to rain.

Roman smiled after him, content with himself. He had finally solved a long term problem.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment? I loved writing this.


End file.
